Comments on: The 10 Worst Gifts for Mother's Dayhttp://blog.holidays.net/index.php/2007/05/07/the-10-worst-gifts-for-mothers-day/
Wrapping the world in holiday goodnessThu, 17 Nov 2011 20:26:13 +0000hourly1http://wordpress.org/?v=4.0.1By: Do something special for Mom, Tell the Worl how special she ishttp://blog.holidays.net/index.php/2007/05/07/the-10-worst-gifts-for-mothers-day/comment-page-1/#comment-98040
Tue, 15 Apr 2008 21:31:27 +0000http://blog.holidays.net/index.php/2007/05/07/the-10-worst-gifts-for-mothers-day/#comment-98040I agree that mothers should be treated special all year long not just to make them feel special for just a day. Although when that day does come each year that honors all the moms out there. We all should treat them just a little extra special. Remember if it werenâ€™t for them and all their love and hard work we wouldnâ€™t even be here today. There are people in the world who, because they feel their lives are so busy and important, that actually forget not only their own mom but also the mother of their own children. So hereâ€™s to all the MOMs out there who have made many sacrificies for the well being of their childrenâ€¦..

Read onâ€¦

Somebodyâ€™s Mother

The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winterâ€™s day.

The street was wet with a recent snow
And the womanâ€™s feet were aged and slow.

She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng

Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.

Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of â€™school let out,â€

Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.

Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way.

Nor offered a helping hand to her-
So meek, so tired, afraid to stir

Lest the carriage wheels or the horsesâ€™ feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.

At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest laddie of all the group;

He paused beside her and whispered low,
â€˜Iâ€™ll help you cross, if you wish to go.â€

Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,

He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.

Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.

â€˜Sheâ€™s somebodyâ€™s mother, boys, you know,
For all sheâ€™s aged and poor and slow,

â€˜And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,

â€˜If ever sheâ€™s poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away.â€™

And â€œsomebodyâ€™s motherâ€ bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said

Was, â€˜God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebodyâ€™s son, and pride and joy!â€